My Mom is a LIAR.The touching story of a
dedicated mother.By Bernand.
This story began when I was a child. I
was born into a poor family which,
most of the time, did not have enough
food to fill our hungry stomachs.
Whenever meal times came, mother
would often give me her portion of
rice. While she transfers her rice into
my bowl, she would always say, “Eat
this rice, son. I’m not hungry.”
That was Mother’s First
Lie.
When I was growing up, my persevering
mother spent her spare time fishing in
a river near our house, hoping that the
fish she caught could provide a little
bit of nutrition needed for my growth.
After fishing, she would cook some
fresh fish soup, which stimulated my
appetite. Oftentimes, while I partake
of the soup, mother would sit beside
me and eat the remaining parts left on
the bone of the fish I had eaten. My
heart gets deeply touched when I see
that, so I use my fork and give the
other fish portion to her. But she
always refuses and tells me, “Eat the
fish, son. I don’t really like fish.”
That was Mother’s Second
Lie.
Then, when I was in Junior High School,
to fund my studies, mother went to an
economic enterprise to bring home
some used match boxes that would
need to be stuck together. It gave her
some money to cover our needs. One
night, as the winter came, I woke up
from my sleep and saw my mother who
was still awake, sticking some used
match boxes by the candlelight. I said,
“Mother, go to sleep. It’s late and
tomorrow morning you still have to go
to work.” Mother smiled and said, “Go
to sleep, dear. I’m not tired.”
That was Mother’s Third
Lie.
The final term arrived and Mother
asked for leave from work in order to
accompany me. My mother waited for
me patiently, under the heat for several
hours, to finish my exam. As the bell
rang, which indicated that the final
exam had finished, mother immediately
welcomed me and poured me a cup of
tea that she brought in a flask. Seeing
my mother covered with perspiration
from standing too long under the sun,
I at once gave her my cup and asked
pushed the cup back to me and said,
“Drink, son. I’m not thirsty! ”
That was Mother’s Fourth
Lie.
After the death of my father due to
illness, my poor mother had to provide
for us as a single parent. She had to
fund our needs alone. Our family’s life
became more complicated and no day
went by without some form of
suffering. Our family’s condition was
getting worse, but we were blessed
with a kind uncle who lived near our
house and assisted every now and then.
Our neighbors often advised my mother
to marry again, but mother was
stubborn and didn’t heed their advice,
saying, “I don’t need love.”
That was Mother’s Fifth
Lie.
After I had finished my studies and got
a job, it was the time for my old
mother to retire. But she didn’t want
to; she would go to the market place
every morning, just to sell some
vegetables to support her needs. I, who
worked in another city, often sent her
some money to help her, but she
would not accept the money. At times,
she even sent the money back to me,
saying, “I have enough money.”
That was Mother’s Sixth
Lie.
Since I already had a Bachelor’s
Degree, I decided to pursue a Master’s
Degree funded by a company through a
scholarship program. Consequently, I
was given an opportunity to work in
that company. Finally, with a good
enough salary, I intended to bring my
mother to live with me so that she
could enjoy her life in the Gulf. But my
lovely mother didn’t want to bother
her son. She said to me, “I’m not used
to that kind of life, son.”
That was Mother’s Seventh
Lie.
In her old age, mother got stomach
cancer and had to be hospitalized. I,
who lived miles away and across the
ocean, went home to visit my dearest
mother. She laid weak on her bed after
having an operation. Mother, who
looked so old, was staring at me in
deep thought. She tried to put on a
warm smile for me, but it took a
considerable effort on her part.
Looking so frail and weak, it was
evident that the disease had ravaged
my mother’s body. Not even bothering
to wipe the tears flowing freely from
my eyes, I stared at my mother, and
my heart hurt so much. But mother,
with the little strength she had
remaining, said, “Don’t cry, my dear.
I’m not in pain.”
That was Mother’s Eighth
and Last Lie.
After saying her eighth lie, my dearest
mother closed her eyes forever.
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